don't you dare look back just keep your eyes on me
by charbrose
Summary: it's always how it's been, he's there no matter what/or penelope and schenider post not yet and beyond


_a/n: i haven't written in months, so i don't really know what this is. this takes place, after one day at a time's season two finale "not yet. thank you to my girl amanda for being the beta for this._

* * *

 **~*~don't you dare look back just keep your eyes on me~*~**

 **pairing: penelope alvarez and dwayne schneider**

 **summary: it's always how it's been, he's there no matter what/or penelope and schenider post not yet and beyond**

 **rating: t**

* * *

Penelope's _never_ felt such relief, such overwhelming all-consuming relief, it's like she was drowning and she _finally_ broke the surface, air filling her lungs. Her legs feel like jello as she backs away, letting Elena and Alex take her place, letting them see for themselves that their Abuelita is okay.

"Whoa, there, boo," Soft, just barely above a whisper and suddenly there are arms around her, keeping her from falling. The body behind her is warm, solid and the smell of sage and bergamont is there, _expensive_ comes to mind and she doesn't have to tilt her head back for confirmation; _Schneider_.

"Come on," He doesn't let go and she wants to push back and tell him she's fine, but even in the face of that overwhelming all-consuming relief, she is so _tired_. "I got you."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

They're outside of Lydia's room, four cups o green jello between them, and suddenly he's doing the "bend and snap" from _Legally Blonde_ , telling her how he managed to get four cups of _green_ , which is everybody's favorite, _duh_ and she laughs. Her whole body is shaking with the sound, jello forgotten and for the first time in two whole days, she's not wiping tears away because she has to be strong.

There's his goofy smile, upper lip tilted just so and his glacial blue eyes shining behind the thick rims of his stupid hipster glasses and she says, a heavy sigh passing her lips once she's calmed down, "Thank you."

"No promblemo," He assures, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "This is what I do, boo."

A soft laugh escapes as she shakes her head and lately she has been missing Max's arms around her, but right now – her mother finally awake and Elena and Alex with her – there's no one else (not that she would _ever_ say so out loud) that she would want to be here except him.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Lydia's recovery won't be easy because she's a nurse practitioner Penelope knows this, but what she isn't prepared for is seeing her vibrant, bossy and _so alive_ mother asleep once she is able to come home. She doesn't think Elena or Alex hear her, but every night she slips behind the curtain in the living room and takes her mother's hand into hers, feeling for a pulse.

A few nights she has even put on her stethoscope and checked her breath sounds.

It's stupid and childish and Doctor Sampson at Los Anegles Memorial wouldn't have discharged her if he didn't think she wasn't ready to go home, but this is her _mother_ and she isn't ready. She's just _not_ and one night she tells her so, voice breaking, "Not yet, Mami, not yet. Not until I say so. I know you _always_ have to have the last word," A wry chuckle. "But not about this. Nah, I'mma have the last word about _this_. You don't get to go until _I_ say so."

That night she ends up in Schneider's apartment. She doesn't know where else to go. There is nowhere else to go. Just here to this dopey rich man-child's apartment with its snow globes and vintage records and _please please please don't have Becky or Nikki or Kiki there tonight please please please please_ she begs silently as she knocks frantically on the door.

"Pen," Groggy and blinking, there's a pillow crease against his cheek and a little bit of drool on the side of his lip and what is she doing? Even rich man-children need to sleep, don't they? He doesn't need to hear her cry like a little girl who's afraid of losing her Mami. She should have never come here. She's about to turn on her heel, brush it off and go back to her own apartment, when she feels his hand take in her entire wrist, effectively stopping her.

"You need somethin'?" He manages to get out past a long yawn.

"Nah, I'm good. You, uh, get back to sleep. You probably got a big day ahead of you. An appointment with your chest waxer Uberto, huh? Or what's tomorrow? Tuseday? So that's when you do your spin class, right? So, yeah, you sleep. I was just about to go do that myself, sleep."

"Penelope," The way he says her name tells her he _knows_ something's not right and ugh, _why_ does he have to know? Why can't he just let her walk back up to her apartment and not look at her like _that_ , like he's going to wrap her in his arms and let her fall apart. Why can't he know that she can't fall apart? She's the strong one, the badass she doesn't fold, she stands tall in the face of anything and everything because she _has_ to. If she breaks, if she shows that she's afraid, Elena and Alex will think there's something wrong and they _can't_ because Lydia is supposed to see them get married and have babies and graduate high school and college and she...

"I got you." Murmured against her riot of curls before he pulls her inside.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"GO ALEX! GO ALEX! GO ALEX! GO ALEX!" Schneider shouts while doing "raise the roof" and Penelope snorts as she steps through the threshold of her apartment. "Dance Dance Revolution?" Her tone is dry and Schneider nearly jumps out of his skin. "GAAAAAAAH!" He shrieks, hand clutching at his chest. "Don't do _that_!"

She shakes her head, turning to her papito and before she asks, he flashes her his charming grin (the one he got from his father) and says, "Don't worry, Mami. I did all my homework, Abuelita checked before she started making dinner. Now I'm going to pause DDR, put my Playstation away and wash my hands before I start setting the table."

Penelope smiles, pinching her son's cheek. "There's a good Papito!"

Putting her purse on the end table by the door, she doesn't realize Schneider walked with her until she turns and they're pressed together. Briefly, she's distracted by the feel of the lean muscle that's evident through the thin t-shirt he's wearing, but she quickly shakes it off.

He gives her a soft smile and a wink, "Your secret's safe with me, boo."

If that – the softness of his smile and the wink (that was so _Schneider)_ – makes her stomach flip, she'll never tell.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"Dale` Elena! Dale` Elena! Dale` Elena!" They're all cheering and dancing around her little girl after the Debate Team finals. There's a trophy presentation and her cheeks are stained red from blushing so hard, but her grin is a mile wide. She's even doing that weird dance she does, making Penelope shake her head. Syd joins in, her movements somehow even more erratic and uncoordinated than Elena's and she can't stop herself from laughing.

"You and your boyfriend must be so proud of Elena," Brianna, Syd's mother says and Penelope nearly chokes on the punch she just took a sip of. "Boy..." She almost gets the word out when she follows the taller woman's gaze and there's Schneider talking to Mark – his son Jason plays baseball with Alex – his hands moving animatedly before he hands the other man his cup of punch and gets into a baseball stance, apparently giving the other parent pointers for the upcoming season.

"Yeah," She says, ignoring the rush of heat to cheeks just like she's been ignoring this weird fluttery thing in her stomach _that's not happening_ every time Schneider shows up cause that's ridiculous. Her and him? Him and her? She can feel herself wanting to laugh hyesterically and she almost does, but instead she just rolls with it because what's the big deal? It's not like Brianna and her husband Sam are going to invite them over to have dinner or something crazy like that.

 _Puh-lease._

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

 ** _._**

 _"Ay dios mio!"_ Penelope mutters under her breath, rapid fire Spanish curses falling from her lips as she paces outside of Schneider's apartment. It's been two weeks since the debate team final and she when she was on her lunch break her phone pinged with a text from Brianna inviting her and Schneider to have dinner with her and Sam. She thought because their girls were dating they should get to know each other better.

"Ooooh, boo," There's Schneider's familiar voice, making her whirl around. "You are looking stressed," He over enunciates the word and she fights to roll her eyes. "Lucky for you I have recently," He rubs his hands together. "Taken up the hobby of massage," The way he says it sounds more like ma-saaaage, and this time she does roll her eyes. "I can have those knots and kinks out of you in no time. That is, uh, of course if you would like me to. I would never be so bold in assuming that's what you would want me to do, put my hands on you in any way because that's only perpetuating toxic masculinity and the patriarchy and other bad stuff, that I would never do. Duh."

"Relax, boo," Her tone is dry as she pushes her fingers through her hair. A huff of air escapes her lips as she folds her arms over her chest. "This is stupid. I shouldn't have come. What was I thinking? I can't ask you to do this..."

"Can't ask me to do what? Pen..." His voice does this thing it's been doing lately when he's around her and it's just them, going warm with this gentleness – until recently – she'd _never_ heard before. There's his soft smile, too and _no_ her stomach is not fluttering, _thank you very much._ And, _ugh_ , seriously when did he get so freakin' tall? Has he _always_ been so freakin' tall? Cause he should have said something about this growth spurt or whatever because there's no way he's always been _this_ freakin' tall!

"Brianna, Syd's Mom texted me on my lunch break about us – cause she thinks you're my boyfriend – having dinner with her and her husband, Sam becaues Elena and Syd are dating and she thinks we – you and me and them – should get to know each other. I, uh," A heavy sigh escaping. "Didn't correct her the night of the debate team final when she assumed that we were together. So, uh... yeah."

"Why Penelope Riera Calderon Leytevidal Inclan," He's preening, eyelashes batting furtively and hand clutching at his chest like some Southern Belle and she thinks he eyes might actually roll out of her head. "Are you asking me to pretend to be your boyfriend? Because that's what I'm hearing, even though you haven't said those exact words?"

"Forget it. I'mma tell Brianna you died in a tragic spin class accident and bam! I am no longer in need of a fake boyfriend. Problem solved!"

"I'd be honored, Pen." There's his voice doing that _thing_ and once again she's reminded of, ugh, how freakin' tall he is as he bends, lips brushing her cheek, briefly and if her eyes closed and she breathed in his familiar smell of sage and bergamont, noticing something else there for the first time, something spicy and _male_ , it was not any of his business.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

"Ay, Lupita..." _Busted_ , Penelope thought glumly at the sound of her mother's voice. She was hoping to sneak out to the dinner so she wouldn't have to deal with the inevitable interrogation if her mother saw her. It's not like she was dressed _that_ fancy, it's not like she had taken special care in picking out her outfit for tonight, it's not like she wanted Schneider to notice the girls and her booty, please.

This jumpsuit – which also brought out the hazel in her eyes – didn't do either of those things. She was wearing the equivalent of a paper bag.

"And just where are you going tonight? Don't think I haven't noticed you shaved your moustache."

"Ah, Mami, please," She practically begged. "I am just going out for drinks with Jill and Sarah from the hospital..."

"Uh-uh," Lydia winked exaggeratedly and Penelope shook her head. "I will see you later, Mami. Do not wait up, there is no man. It's just drinks with the girls."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

If the glacial blue of his eyes grow a shade darker when he sees her she _definitely_ doesn't do an inner fist pump. If he takes her hand during dinner, laughing at something Sam says about Brianna not knowing how to load a dish washer properly and then throws in some ancedote about himself which leads him to kissing her knuckles, her stomach is definitely _not_ doing the fluttery thing. Just like her heart doesn't skip a beat when he tells them about helping Alex with baseball or Elena being his mentee as the building's handy "ma'am."

He tells them how much he likes Syd and then Sam's inviting him for golf and Brianna says while the boys play, they can shop or take in a movie and she says that sounds great, and it does.

Just like the way Schneider's hand – big and warm – feels against the small of her back when they say good night.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

They end up back at Schneider's apartment, side by side on the couch, and the air is more electrically charged than Penelope anticipated when the night began, not that she thought they would end up back _here_ at all. He brushes his hand along her jaw, taking special care like she's something precious and rare, his eyes search hers silently asking permission, the glacial blue dark but inviting, hot but warm and this is so different than what she's used to.

Victor with his swagger, that Latino machismo oozing out of him, never hesitated. Max was a man's man, who made the first move, taking her right into his arms and capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

Schneider isn't either of those things; no machismo and _definitely_ _not_ a man's man, but when his lips touch hers, drawing her in with soft and slow instead of hard and fast and hot, it's exactly what she needs. When his tongue touches hers, she wonders how he _knows_ and then a soft laugh huffs out of her, as they pull away (their lungs starved for air) because of course he knows.

He caught her at the hospital when her legs were jello, he held her as she cried letting her be weak and fall apart because she needed to, he helped her when Syd's Mom assumed they were together and then there was Elena's Quinces, Alex's baseball, and countless other examples of when he was there for her.

Because that's how it's always been; he's there no matter what.

Without hesitation or question.

And for the first time – as she's coming down from her high, their sweaty skin sticking together, legs tangled in his bajillion thread count rich boy sheets – she breathes his name, "Dwayne."


End file.
